


Alone

by per_mare_ad_astra



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Ariadne-centric, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:04:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/per_mare_ad_astra/pseuds/per_mare_ad_astra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heptarian gripped her wrist when she tried to turn away and brought her closer to him. "Look at yourself, Ariadne. Alone, friendless. Your actions got that serving girl of yours killed. Do you really think you'll survive on your own?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for DAYS and it refused to leave me alone. Like, I was so obsessed I actually dreamt about it.  
> Basically, this is a scene that should have been in episode 7 after Korinna's death, mainly because Heptarian and Ariadne's relationship is very intriguing.  
> Fun fact: This is the longest fic I've written for this fandom and the second-longest fic I've ever written.  
> Enjoy!

It was cold.

It took her some time to notice, for she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts and numbness, but eventually the goosebumps on her arms and occasional shivers became too pronounced to ignore. The chill creeped up on her, sliding underneath her dress and settling deep inside her bones and heart. The cold brought relief with it, since it meant that at least she felt something other than the agonizing emptiness that had plagued her soul for the past few hours.

It didn't take the pain away, though.

She had tried to ignore it, to bury it inside her mind under lock and key, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. In an hour, perhaps, or in a day or a month, it would break free. She didn't know what she would do if it happened. No, not if. When. It was inevitable. She could only hope she would be alone when she broke down.

_'No, don't think about that.'_

It was best not to think about that. It was best not to think about anything at all, really.

She had caught a glimpse her reflection earlier, but had quickly turned away in disgust. The young woman who had looked back had been barely recognizable, with puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks and skin almost as pale as marble. There had been no trace of the beautiful Atlantian princess the kingdom loved so well.

Beautiful. Oh, how she hated that word. Her beauty had always felt more like a curse than a gift. Sometimes it felt as if it was the only part of her that people cared about. _'Beautiful Ariadne'_ , they would call her. Just beautiful.

Perhaps she deserved this curse.

She shivered again.

She needed to bathe, to let the water wash away the tears, the pain and that guilt that refused to go away.

"Korinna, can you –"

The question died on her lips as she froze. The truth, the cold, hard truth hit her with so much force she forgot how to breathe. Korinna wasn't there anymore. Korinna was gone. Korinna was _dead_. Korinna was dead because of _her_. She would never see the servant's radiant smile, hear her kinds words or listen to her soft voice ever again and it was

All.

Her.

Fault.

"Ariadne."

She hadn't realized she was falling until a pair of strong arms caught her. She didn't even care who had caught her. The world had tilted to one side and was going fuzzy around the edges as the words echoed in her mind like some infernal chant: _'Your fault your fault your fault'._

"Ariadne!"

She looked up into a pair of sea blue eyes that were vaguely familiar. With her mind still trying to understand what was happening, she let her gaze trail over the person's features: long nose, strong jaw, dark brown hair...

Heptarian.

Instinctively, she jerked away from his embrace and back into reality. It took her a few seconds to comprehend the rudeness of the action, and she tried to feel ashamed.

She was not. She was too busy shoving all of that pain and guilt and loneliness into the deepest part of her, praying to any God that would listen: _'Please, please don't let him notice.'_ Now was not a good time for word to spread out that the princess was losing her mind.

"My lord," she said in an attempt to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them. She didn't quite meet his eyes; she never did. "I apologize, I do not know what came over me. I simply feel a bit... fatigued." The smile that accompanied her words was as quick as it was fake.

Heptarian made a small movement with his hands. Did he wish to hold her? To shake her? To hit her? She knew what those hands could do, had seen them plunge a knife into a man's flesh. With some difficulty, she managed not to wince.

"If you require a healer..." Was that concern in his voice? But why bother with his little act when they were alone? He played his part well in front of the court, always enquiring after her wellbeing and saying kind words, but she knew it was all an act, part of whatever plan that he and Pasiphae had.

"That will not be necessary." Her tone clearly indicated that he was not welcome there, in her chambers. Her eyes widened slightly at the thought. What _was_ he doing in her chambers?

"I believe I told my servants that I was not to be disturbed this evening," she said, trying to sound pleasant.

Heptarian was watching her carefully. _'The way a cat looks at a mouse before he pounces, perhaps?'_ she thought. But no, there was no cruelty in his gaze, just worry.

He really did play his part well.

"I wished to speak to you." To others, it might sound like an offer that could be accepted or refused, but Ariadne knew him well: Heptarian would say what he had come to say, and would not leave until he had done so. He was a man of few words, but the few that left his lips had to be heard.

She tried to think of some way, any way that would enable her to avoid this conversation, but it was futile. She would simply have to grit her teeth and listen, despite the loathing she felt for the man.

"Then you may speak, my lord." She didn't bother with pleasantness this time.

Heptarian sighed. "I believe that you should reconsider what you said to Minos concerning our betrothal, since –"

"My words are _final_ –" she began hotly. To Hades with manners and civility, she did not want to talk about that particular subject.

" _Since_ it will only worsen your situation," Heptarian interrupted, irritation clear in his voice.

The meaning behind his words sunk in and she finally looked up, shocked. "M-My situation?" she stammered. "What do you mean?"

He couldn't know about what had happened. Or could he? Uncertainty made her heart skip a beat. Did he know about what had happened with Pasiphae? And Korinna?

"Do not take me for a fool, Ariadne. We both know what I mean." That calculative gleam in his eyes told her that yes, he did know everything. It shouldn't be so surprising, since he was Pasiphae's lapdog. The Queen must have told him that Ariadne knew about Therus, that she knew their true plans...

"Which is why I believe that you should speak to Minos," continued Heptarian.

So that she'd go back to the situation she'd been in at first? So that she'd have to marry Heptarian? No, she didn't want that. She would _never_ want that.

"I am the _princess_ , I have the right –"

"You are a fool, Ariadne!" snapped Heptarian. "You are nothing more than a little girl who is trying to play a game whose rules she cannot understand."

Ah, there he was. The real Heptarian, all trace of pretend gone. She would smirk with triumph were it not for the rage that bubbled inside her.

"How _dare_ you?"

But Heptarian was having none of it. He gripped her wrist when she tried to turn away and brought her closer to him. "Look at yourself, Ariadne. Alone, friendless. Your actions got that serving girl of yours killed. Do you really think you'll survive on your own?"

She wrenched her wrist away from his grip and blinked back tears at the truth of his words. "So you think I'm weak?"

His gaze softened then, the angry frown disappearing. And there it was again, that concern in his eyes. "No," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "No, I think you are too young."

Ariadne was at a loss for words. She could deal with Heptarian's anger, but not with this gentle side of him.

Perhaps his kindness hadn't always been an act.

 _'Don't be stupid,'_ she thought. _'He's a monster.'_

"Why should I listen to the words of a man who murders for his own amusement?" she said icily. She had not forgotten what had happened in the Pankration and how he had killed two men in cold blood. She had seen men die before, usually in public executions, but to see Heptarian do it for no apparent reason had affected her deeply. To kill for fun... Surely there was a part of Tartarus reserved for men who did such things.

Heptarian took a deep breath. "I... I am not proud of what I did." He was going to say something else, but hesitated. After a few moments, he tried again. "We are royalty, Ariadne. We cannot always do what we want to do. Sometimes we have to... please people, even if we do not wish to."

She had never seen him act so nervous, so careful. As if he was keeping something from her, desperately trying not to let it slip out. And his words... A suspicion took root in her mind.

"People like Pasiphae, perhaps?" she asked, watching him intently.

Heptarian tensed, his expression betraying nothing, and that told Ariadne all she needed to know. Everything seemed to click into place in that very moment: How he always hesitated before talking when Pasiphae was around, how he spent most of his time with her, how he had glanced at her before killing those men in the Pankration...

In that moment, she understood many things about the man who stood before her.

Pasiphae. Everything seemed to revolve around her.

"For how long?" Her voice was soft.

"Ten years." His voice was devoid of emotion.

She could not even begin to comprehend what those ten years must have been like for Heptarian. Always watched by his aunt, always careful to do and say the right things, because otherwise she would... she would... What?

She remembered what Heptarian had looked like the day after she had escaped to meet Therus: Pale, exhausted, moving gingerly as though every step he took hurt.

She hadn't left her chambers since the Prankation, but the slight slouch of his shoulders and the tension in his body spoke volumes.

What had Pasiphae _done_ to him?

"I am sorry, Heptarian. Truly." The words were honest, but felt insignificant.

Heptarian smiled. "I hope you understand now, and that someday you will forgive me."

She hesitated before she spoke. She did not believe he was lying, not anymore, but it was difficult to get over ten years of loathing in one single second. She took a deep breath and let the feeling go. "Everything is already forgiven."

She returned his smile.

Heptarian nodded, showing his gratitude with the simple gesture. "Do not make the mistakes I made, Ariadne, and do not repeat the ones you have made already. Please."

Her smile wavered. "If I must speak to my father..."

"That is for you to decide. You must choose, and do so wisely," said Heptarian."But know this." He took a step closer to her and took both of her hands in his. "I would be a good husband to you, Ariadne. I would care for you, protect you, keep you safe. You would want for nothing. I swear it by Poseidon."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity of his words and the solemnity of his oath. He meant it, he really did.

It would be easy, so easy to just _let_ him. To become his wife. He was a good man, she could see that now. She would be safe, she would not have to fear Pasiphae's wrath.

But her heart did not belong to him. It belonged to the young man with wild curls, hazel eyes and a smile so bright it lit up her whole world. The man she loved so fiercely it broke her heart, for she knew they would never be together.

_Jason._

And Heptarian knew it.

He sighed and he let go her hands, taking a few steps back. Their eyes met, and she couldn't help noticing that there was a hint of something there, something unfamiliar. Sadness? Pain?

"Sleep well, Ariadne."

And as he walked away, she realized that maybe she wasn't the only one with a broken heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and/or comments if you liked it!


End file.
